


Birthdays and Bathtubs

by cold_nights_intake



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drowning, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 04:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15453264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_nights_intake/pseuds/cold_nights_intake
Summary: A study of Andrew's relationship with birthdays.





	Birthdays and Bathtubs

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. This is both my first fic for this fandom and the first one I'm posting here so please send any feedback you might have. I wrote this a while ago and while it isn't my best work I can't seem to let it go either. Please pay attention to the trigger warnings.Any constructive criticism will be deeply adored and I hope you enjoy!

Andrew wakes up to the sound of heavy breathing and astonishment at the lack of panic he feels. Neil looks so at peace that it manages to almost keep Andrew’s thoughts at bay until he sees the date.

November 4.

Today was not gonna be a good day.

He gets up and heads to the small terrace they have and lights a cigarette,glad that the cats were sleeping; he was not in the mood to deal with them.

Birthdays were always a sore spot for Andrew but then again what wasn’t? This though, this, was highly valid. He was interrupted in his thoughts by the sound of soft footsteps and a sleepy grumbling

“Good morning”

Neil’s hair was messed and he was wearing one of Andrew’s shirts, it was kind of short for Neil and every time he raised his arms his stomach was left bare. Andrew was just glad that he didn’t say “Happy birthday” though he supposed he had the whole day left. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, blew smoke towards Neil and responded,  
“Morning.”

Neil ended up making Andrew pancakes and Andrew got to eat an obscene amount of ice cream and it was perfect. Except that Andrew had been feeling weird the whole day. Sad and irritated and angry or maybe he was feeling nothing at all, and that scared him. So he asks Neil “Yes or No?”, gives him a brief peck on the lips and heads off to a long cool bath, maybe it would help him blow off some steam and at the very least it would make sure he didn’t have to have physical contact with any living thing.

———————————————————–

Andrew steps into the bathroom and turns on the tap. He lets his thoughts flow along the water.

_Birthdays. Birthdays. Birthdays. They were always a mess for Andrew, let’s review shall we?_

__

_The day he actually gets born his mother decides that he’s not worth the time of day so she leaves him and doesn’t look back._

__

_Year one: He has his first birthday in a new foster home with strange people. Apparently he wasn’t good enough for them either for it only takes them a few months before he’s sent away again_

__

_Year two: spent at an orphanage surrounded by people who didn’t know him and didn’t care but still cut a cake because it’s a birthday and that’s what you do._

By now the tub has filled so Andrew carefully peels off his clothes. His childhood left no scars except the ones he inflicted on himself. It’s liberating and frustrating at the same time. Where are the signs that show that he’s a survivor too? Maybe they don’t exist because he’s not one. Maybe he’s just a pretender. He carefully eases into the tub. It’s been five minutes since he stepped into the bathroom. He continues with his previous train of thought.

_Hmmm. Year three: Yes, that one was spent at get another orphanage, this one was stricter. Don’t laugh at certain times in certain ways. Don’t eat so messily. Don’t slack on your studies. Don’t don’t don’t. That year he got a raisin cake instead of a chocolate one, because it was healthier. Maybe this is where the obsession with chocolate began. A childish rebellion_

__

_Years four, five and six were quite the same. Year 7 was when he got adopted again. The birthday gift? A foster brother too close for comfort and a lifetime need for therapy._

__

_By year 8 he was in an orphanage again._

__

_Year 9 was an actual good birthday, the foster parents had chocolate cake and candles and gifts but the gifts were generic because they never paid enough attention to care about Andrew and the next year he was stuck at an orphanage again. By then the pattern was evident, no one cared about him, no one wanted him and birthdays were useless, so were wishes._

By now 15 minutes have passed. Andrew finds some sort of shampoo, shoves it into his hair and violently rubs a bit of soap on himself, then he steps back in the bathtub. He stops thinking of birthdays in years and thinks of them in events.

_There was the one organized by Cass. With a black forest cake and candles and well thought out gifts and an Andrew that was smiling._

__

_The same birthday is when drake stepped into the room and told “AJ” all about his plans for him. It was the month where Andrew understood that nothing good comes without a price and thought maybe just maybe some things were worth what he had to bear._

__

_It was at a birthday that drake suggested bringing a certain twin into the mix._

__

_He spent one birthday in jail staring at grey walls and thinking oh well at least here they’re obvious about hating me._

__

_He spent a birthday helping Aaron and planning Tilda’s murder. He spent it thinking how naïve his young hopes on wishes and prices was, how maybe he should take fate into his own hands, because the world sure as hell wasn’t fair then why should he be?_

__

_It was on a birthday that he let Neil in and got convinced into going to Nicky’s. It was due to a birthday and a stupid mistake that he got to meet Drake again. It was due to a birthday and a stupid life that he ended up on Proust’s table, drugged, but his insufferable memory still wouldn’t leave him and he remembered every detail. The breath. The hands. The mouth. Slick and heavy and disgusting. All the water in the world couldn’t wash it away._

It’s been twenty five minutes since Andrew stepped into the room and he’s done. The memory of all those hands on him, all those kisses , all those grins and taunts it’s too much. It can’t be washed off. He can’t escape. He can’t can’t can’t. There’s only one way to win a rigged game, to cheat. There’s only one way to survive this life, to die.

Why Andrew is counting the minutes he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s in the hope that somebody would notice, that somebody would come and save him but that’s a stupid hope. A pipe dream. So slow and steady he goes under, and he stays.

A minute passes, by now holding his breath is hard but he holds it.

Two minutes and he can’t hold it anymore so he lets it go after all that was the initial aim.

Three. 

His lungs are burning, so are his eyes and all his mind is screaming is to stay alive. Andrew knows better. Life won’t let him be happy and he’s done trying.

Four minutes and Andrew goes unconscious and finally, finally, there is relief.

———————————————————–

Neil knows that Andrew isn’t too fond of his birthday, and he understands, after all his own memories aren’t all that great either. So today he woke up, made Andrew pancakes and did not push. The words “Happy Birthday” weren’t mentioned and this way was better for both. Usually Andrew was okay with a quick shower, preferably with Neil, but today he seemed to be in the mood for a bath alone. He had opted for this luxury before, on weekends or in celebration of a team’s season so Neil didn’t think twice about it and moved on.

Andrew had only been in there for thirty minutes but Neil was worried so he knocks on the door.

No answer.

He tries again

No answer.

Perhaps he’s listening to a song or something.

Neil tries his phone.

No answer.

Now Neil is worried. His heart is beating too fast and a lump seems to have lodged itself in his throat.

He forces the door open but the bathtub seems empty.

When he reaches it Andrew’s body is limp and lifeless and not breathing.

Neil isn’t breathing either, but he digs nails into his arms and forces himself to focus. He calls 911 and puts them on speaker while he checks for a pulse.

Thank god. There is one but too faint so he starts attempting CPR.

“Nine one one what is your emergency?”

He barely chokes out the words “my boyfriend attempted drowning himself” and rattles off an address.

“Sir, do you know CPR?”

“Yes, that is what I’m attempting right now”

“An ambulance will reach you soon”

The call cuts off.

By now a lot of water has come out and Neil is desperately blowing into Andrew’s mouth.

“Wake up damn it you can’t do this to me. You can’t. You were getting better. Wake up damn it”

Finally his chest heaves and he seems to be breathing easier, the pulse is more stable but his eyes are still closed.

Neil doesn’t know when the ambulance arrived or when he got into it, he just remembers that he did.

———————————————————–

The hospital keep Andrew on oxygen and an IV and Neil has a horrible panic attack as soon as the nurses leave, but he forces himself to remain calm and decides not to call Andrew’s family yet, maybe it was too personal of an issue and it felt wrong to advertise it to the world without his consent, so Neil sits and waits and hopes.

Andrew wakes up in a few hours with a horrible headache and the wish that he never had, but of course this would be one more thing that he would fail at.

“Andrew!”

Neil looked like Andrew imagined Atlas might look like when the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. Haggard and tired but relieved. He also looked devastated and Andrew couldn’t bear that so he looks away at the pretence of surveying the room.

“Hey! Andrew! Look at me, we are at the local hospital, the doctors said you should be okay if you woke up and presented no further symptoms in 24 hours, you’re okay, we’re okay”

Andrew just stared at him at that.

“Do you want me to call Bee?” He tries again. “Maybe this happened due to the new meds. We’ll figure it out.”

Andrew finally speaks, “Maybe”.

There’s complete silence for a few minutes before Andrew asks

“Why? Why try and save me?” He leaves the “Haven’t I suffered enough?” out.

His voice is smooth and indifferent but Neil knows better. He has to choose his next words carefully, he knows he can’t say that he loves him, the words have been too tainted for the both of them so he simply says,

“97 percent”

“What?” Andrew might be losing patience. 

“That’s the percentage of my fear that’s reserved just for you. I am afraid of a lot of things Andrew, but nothing trumps my fear for you, you gave me a key and called it home, you asked me to stay and every day I fear that you would go away, that I wouldn’t interest you anymore and maybe this is cliché but I suppose sometimes we need to hear it. Stay for me, Andrew. We’ll figure it out, just Stay. ”

Andrew says nothing to that for a while, he has nothing to say, it’s been an exhausting day and he thinks that he’s thought enough for now so he just turns away, tells Neil to call Bee and falls asleep.

Neil knows that this doesn’t mean that everything is okay but it does mean progress, and that’s enough for now, he leaves a message for Bee, gets comfortable again and falls asleep

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any prompts,requests or just questions leave them in the comments below.


End file.
